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DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 
AND MRS. CHALLMER’S 
PUBLIC MEETING 


G. A. BIRMINGHAM 



HODDER & STOUGHTON 
NEW YORK 

GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 




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DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 
AND MRS. CHALLMER’S 
PUBLIC MEETING 


BY 

G. A. BIRMINGHAM 



IiODDER & STOUGHTON 
NEW YORK 

GEORGE H. IT'UIA.N COMPANY 


Copyright, 1912 

By George H. Doran Company 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


44 T CALLED on you this morning,” said Dr. 

X Whitty, “about a purely personal matter. But 
perhaps you’re busy?” 

“ I’m thankful to say,” said Colonel Beresford, 
“ that I’m past the age at which men think they can 
preserve their self-respect only by being busy.” 

“ It has occurred to me,” said Dr. Whitty, “ since 
I got engaged to be married to Miss Mulhall, that, 
though my income is all right for the quiet kind of life 
we intend to lead, I haven’t got the amount of capital 
ready to hand that I ought to have, if we are to go on 
a proper honeymoon.” 

“ Some men,” said the Colonel, “ would have 
thought of that before they got engaged.” 

Dr. Whitty ignored this remark. 

“ It seems to me, therefore,” he went on, “ that it’s 
my duty to get a hold on some ready money. I’m 
sure I can count on your help.” 

“ If you expect me to become a chronic invalid or 
poison my servants ” 

“Not at all. The idea in my mind ” 

“ I once offered you a present of twenty pounds,” 
said the Colonel, “ and you practically threw the 
cheque back in my face.” 

“ I’m not begging,” said Dr. Whitty ; “ all I want of 
you is your name as a reference.” 

“What for?” 

“ I’m thinking of starting a sanatorium. Hold on a 
minute — * here’s the advertisement : ‘ Nervous Pa- 

tients ’ — that, of course, means habitual drunkards ; 
it’s put in that way to save unpleasantness for their 
relatives — ‘ received in a doctor’s house. Bracing 
neighbourhood. Gravel soil. Personal supervision. 

i 


2 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


References kindly permitted to ’ Then comes 

your name, and, after it, Father Henaghan’s and Mr. 
Jackson’s. ‘I have them both, so as to show that the 
religion of the patient will be properly attended to, 
whatever sort it is.” 

“And what do you expect to make out of that?” 

“ I shall ask £10 a week,” said the doctor, “ and, if 
I light on the right kind of drunkard, I dare say I 
shall get it.” 

“ Is there much choice ? I should have thought 
they were all rather disgusting.” 

“There is a choice, of course. The best kind is a 
young man whose father has made a large fortune 
honestly and so clings to the idea of respectability. 
The son, having been educated expensively, gets into 
what is supposed to be good society. There, he ac- 
quires habits which Well, the father, after do- 

ing his best for a time, determines to put the' young 
man under control in some rather distant place. 
That’s the really strong poir*t about my advertisement. 
If you live in the English Midlands, as the man I have 
in mind almost certainly does, nowhere seems further 
off than Western Connacht; I shall get my £10 a 
week to a certainty if I have the luck to light on a 
man of that sort.” 

“ I dare say you will,” said Colonel Beresford. “ I’m 
told that advertising is the ofte sure means of making 
money; and your effort is no more immoral than the 
rest.” 

“ I’m not quite sure,” said Dr. Whitty, “ that I un- 
derstand what you mean. Where does the immor- 
ality come in ? ” 

“ Well, advertisements, as a rule, lie like Ananias 
and Sapphira. Yours, for instance, says ‘ Bracing 
neighbourhood.’ ” 

“ That’s not a lie. It’s simply a formula, like ‘ Dear 
Sir’ at the beginning of a letter. 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


3 

“‘Gravel soil/ then, is like 4 very sincerely 
yours ’ ? ” 

“ Precisely, and the rest of the advertisement is 
true.” 

“Considering,” said the Colonel, “that every shop 
in Ballintra except one is a public-house, it seems to 
me it would have been wiser to have aimed at some 
other kind of patient.” 

“ I might have done that, of course ; but a drunk- 
ard is much the most likely sort to get.” 

“ He’ll need a good deal of ‘ Personal supervision,’ ” 
said the Colonel. 

“ I s don’t mean to be the person who supervises. I 
couldn’t spare the time.” 

“ Ah !* You mean to engage a sort of keeper.” 

“ Certainly not. In the first place, those fellows are 
frightfully expensive and I’m trying to make money. 
In the next place, men of that sort irritate the patient. 
VVhat I mean to do is to hire Michael Geraghty’s lit- 
tle girl, the eldest one, Molly, who is about fourteen. 
I can get her for five shillings a week and she’ll find 
the greatest pleasure in walking round with the drunk- 
ard.” 

“ But she won’t be able to stop him drinking.” 

“ Oh, yes, she will. You may not have observed it, 
Colonel, but men who drink are invariably kind-hearted 
and fond of children. Molly will appeal to his better 
nature. That’s part of my system. No man would 
touch more than he ought while a nice little girl was 
holding him by the hand.” 

Ten days later, Colonel Beresford received a letter 
marked “ Private and confidential.” 

“ Dear Sir,” he read, “ you will, I feel sure, excuse 
my troubling you, when I mention that I write to make 
enquiries about the character and position of Dr. 
Whitty of your own, whose advertisement gives your 
name among others as a reference. I am particularly 


4 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


anxious to know whether Dr. Whitty is a man of 
cheerful disposition. It has become necessary, in con- 
sequence of a serious nervous breakdown, to secure 
for my son a period of complete rest and quiet. I 
think it desirable that he should be under the super- 
vision of a competent medical man, although I trust 
he will not require actual treatment, and it is abso- 
lutely necessary that his surroundings should be bright 
and cheerful. I shall feel obliged if you will give me 
your candid opinion of Dr. Whitty, and I shall regard 
anything you write as strictly confidential. — I am, 
yours truly, J. Hatfield.” i 

The notepaper bore the name of a firm, “ Hatfield 
& Co., Engineers and Contractors,” with a business 
address ; but this was scratched out and “ Cedar 
Lawn, Edenberry, Newcastle-on-Tyne,” substituted. 

Colonel Beresford replied cautiously. He said he 
held the highest opinion of Dr. Whitty’s personal char- 
acter and medical skill, absolutely guaranteed his 
gaiety and gave it as his opinion that rest and quiet 
would be obtainable in Ballintra if anywhere in the 
world. He added, that he did not in any way vouch 
for the value of Dr. Whitty’s methods of dealing with 
nervous patients. Three days later, he received a call 
from Dr. Whitty. 

“Thanks, Colonel,” he said. “Your letter did the 
trick for me. Old Hatfield is evidently a British mer- 
chant of the most superior possible kind. He offered 
— actually offered — eight guineas a week, and his 
son is just the kind of man I want.” 

“ Nervous breakdown?” asked the Colonel. 

“ Precisely. The old boy was frightfully nice about 
it. You could see at once that he is really fond of 
Herbert — Herbert is the son’s name.” 

“ Of course,” said the Colonel. “ It was sure to 
be.” 

“ He wrote me a long letter and put the whole thing 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


5 


down to Herbert’s artistic temperament and the nerve 
strain which that involved. It appears that he did 
uncommonly well at Oxford — Herbert, I mean, not 
the engineer and contractor — and won a prize for 
writing poetry. Then he went up to London, and 
there, apparently, things began to get serious, though 
they’d evidently been bad enough at Oxford, and old 
Hatfield connects the trouble in some way with the 
prize poem. Herbert himself is quite willing to try 
the experiment of placing himself under my care for 
awhile. He is, so his father says, a young man of 
very amiable disposition who makes friends wherever 
he goes. I expect he’ll take to Molly Geraghty at 
once. I dare say I shall have him for as much as 
three months and at the end of that time ” 

He paused and was evidently engaged in multiply- 
ing eight guineas by thirteen, a sum difficult to do 
without a pencil and a piece of paper. 

“ You’ll be in a position to marry,” said the Colo- 
nel. 

“ Yes,” said Dr. Whitty, when he had finished his 
sum, “ I shall.” 

A week later Herbert Hatfield arrived, and for 
some days Colonel Beresford saw nothing of the doc- 
tor. He felt a good deal of curiosity about the prog- 
ress of the new cure for inebriety, and, meeting 
Michael Geraghty on the road, took the opportunity 
of trying to find out what was going on. 

“ I hear,” he said, “ that Dr. Whitty has engaged 
your eldest girl as housemaid, Michael. How does 
she like it? ” 

“ It isn’t housemaid she is,” said Michael, “ nor yet 
cook.” 

“ What is she, then? ” 

“ I wouldn’t wonder,” said Michael, “ if she’s what 
they a call a companion. Anyway, all she has to do is 
to walk about along with a strange gentleman the 


6 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


doctor has with him, and for that she’s getting five 
shillings a week and her dinner.” 

“ It sounds an easy job.” 

“ You may say that.” 

“ And is he a nice gentleman ? ” 

“ As quiet as ever you seen, barring an odd time 
when his temper would be riz, and, even with that, 
Molly says she never heard curse out of him — not 
what you’d call a proper curse. It was only this 
morning he said to her, ‘ Child, there’s half-a-crown 
for you. Go and buy dolls and sweets,’ he says, ‘ and 
leave me in peace by myself.’ You wouldn’t call that 
cursing? ” 

“ I would not,” said the Colonel. “ I suppose she 
took the half-crown.” 

“ She did, of course. Is it likely she’d vex him 
worse than he was vexed ? ” 

“ Was he vexed?” 

“ He was. Didn’t I tell you he was ? The two eyes 
were starting out of him with the rage he was in, and, 
with every look he took at Molly, he got worse instead 
of better.” 

“ Did she go away?” 

“ She did not. She’d be in dread to do the like ; for 
the doctor said he’d chastise her if ever she let the 
gentleman out of her sight, and the most of the time 
she was to be holding his hand, if, so be, he’d let 
her.” 

Colonel Beresford’s curiosity was intensely excited 
by this account of Herbert Hatfield’s dealings with 
Molly Geraghty. He made up his mind to call on Dr. 
Whitty and find out further details about the be- 
haviour of the inebriate stranger. He was aware that 
he was acting in an undignified way by openly pur- 
suing gossip which was not offered to him; but he 
consoled himself by reflecting that he had not much 
dignity to lose, and that, in any case, Dr. Whitty had 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


7 

none, He found, as he expected, that the doctor was 
quite ready to talk freely. 

“ I’m sorry, Colonel,” he said, “that I haven’t been 
able to go up to see you, since poor Herbert arrived. 
I simply wasn’t able to get away. Molly manages ad- 
mirably and sticks to him like a leech; but, of course, 
I’m responsible. Herbert arrived here this day last 
week, a frightful wreck, face haggard, eyes sunken, 
hands shaking like what-do-call-’em leaves.” 

“ Aspen ? " 

“Yes, aspen; that’s what he said himself. Being 
a poet, he’d be bound to say something of the sort. I 
can’t recollect ever having noticed an aspen leaf, 
but ” 

“ The aspen tree, I ; believe, is the same thing as a 
poplar,” said the Colonel. “ But it doesn’t grow in 
this part of the world.” 

“ All I can say is that if its leaves are anything like 
poor Herbert’s hands they can’t be much use to it. 
His body was frightfully emaciated.” 

“ Nose red?” 

“ No, pale grey. A nose doesn’t get red except 
after a long course. Herbert, apparently, has only 
been* really going it for about a year. Well, I gave 
him a bit of dinner, and* seeing the state he was in, 
offered him a bottle of porter. What do you think he 
said ? He had the nerve to assure me that he never 
touched alcohol in any form. I call that rather a bad 
sign. I’d rather have a man who owned up frankly. 
However, I did not say anything, but, so soon as din- 
ner was over, I introduced him to Molly, who was 
waiting in the hall. He didn’t seem as much inter- 
ested in her as I had hoped. However, he went for a 
walk and she followed him. The next day the trouble 
began.” 

“ Ah ! At Thady Glynn’s, I suppose ? ” 

“ No. It’s a curious instance of the crafty way 


8 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


these poor fellows go about things; he didn’t show 
the smallest wish to go near the town. He went down 
and sat on Michael Geraghty’s pier and looked at the 
sea. Molly, of course, sat beside him. At first, he 
didn’t take notice any of her; but, after a while, he 
inquired why she wasn’t at school. From that on, he 
made a series of efforts to get rid of her. He tried 
walking fast, and even running, but Molly is an active 
child, so he didn’t make much by that. Then he tried 
climbing up rocks and places, where he thought she 
wouldn’t be able to follow him. He soon found out 
his mistake. A child of that age is an extraordinary 
good climber as a rule. Then, he fell back on the 
school idea and made his way up to Michael Ger- 
aghty’s workshop. He had enquired, of course, from 
Molly who her father was. He didn’t make much by 
that. Michael listened to all he had to say about the 
advantages of education for the young and duty of 
the parents. Then he told Herbert that Molly was 
half-witted and couldn’t be taught anything, so there 
was no use sending her to school. Herbert appar- 
ently didn’t believe that. He went off the next day to 
the schoolmaster and made further enquiries. The 
master, of course, was prepared to back up anything 
Michael had said, but somehow he took the matter up 
wrong. He thought it was Herbert Hatfield who had 
been accusing Molly of being half-witted and that 
Michael had been defending his daughter’s reputa- 
tion.” 

“ I don’t blame him,” said the Colonel. “ Nobody 
would expect a father to be giving away his own child 
like that to a perfect stranger.” 

“ I dare say. Anyway, he said that Molly was the 
smartest girl he had and that the only reason she 
didn’t go regularly to school was that her education 
was practically complete. 

“ That seems to have aroused Herbert’s suspicions 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


9 


worse than ever. He went straight up to the Pres- 
bytery and asked Father Henaghan to tell him the 
truth about Molly. Father Henaghan wanted to do 
the best he could to make things pleasant for Herbert, 
but didn’t know what either Michael or the school- 
master had told him. He said that, owing to an out- 
break of measles among the other Geraghty children, 
he had strictly forbidden Molly to go to school, hop- 
ing in that way to prevent the spread of infection. 
Herbert then enquired for the school attendance of- 
ficer.” 

“ Thinking, I suppose, that we had compulsory edu- 
cation in this country?” 

“ Apparently. When he found out that there was 
no such person he gave up the idea of trying to get 
rid of Molly by sending her to school.” 

“ What did he do next? ” 

“ He threatened her with the police,” said the doc- 
tor. “ Molly was frightened at first, and told her 
father when she went home that night. Michael said 
she needn’t mind, because, even if she was arrested, 
nothing would be done to her afterwards. He said 
that you were a magistrate and generally got your own 
way on the Bench, and that you wouldn’t send any 
one to prison for following Herbert Hatfield about, 
because you were as keen as everybody else on having 
him properly watched.” 

“ I wish he hadn’t said that. I don’t like being 
dragged into this business.” 

“ It’s all right,” said the doctor. “ Molly didn’t tell 
Herbert what her father had said. She simply turned 
up smiling the next morning.” 

“ Then he tried bribing her,” said the Colonel. 
“ Michael told me all about that.” 

“ It will be very interesting to see what he does 
next, now that bribery has failed. In the meanwhile, 
the thing is working out splendidly. He hasn’t, to my 


10 


DR, WHITTY’S PATIENT 


knowledge, had a drop of any kind of drink, except 
water and tea, since he came here ; and he’s beginning 
to fatten already. His hands are not half as shaky 
as they were at first Hullo! Here he is.” 

A minute later Herbert Hatfield, having banged the 
hall door behind him, entered the room. 

“ Doctor Whitty,” he said, “ I must ask you for 
some explanation of the extraordinary way ” 

“ My friend 1 , Colonel Beresford — Mr. Hatfield,” 
said) the doctor, performing the ceremony of introduc- 
tion. 

The Colonel and Herbert Hatfield bowed. 

“ Perhaps,” said Herbert, “ I could speak to you in 
private for a few minutes, if Colonel Beresford will 
excuse us.” 

“ If it’s Molly Geraghty you want to talk of,” said 
the doctor, “there’s not the least necessity for a pri- 
vate interview. The Colonel knows all about it and 
strongly approves ” 

“ No II don’t,” said the Colonel. 

“ Of course you don’t,” said Herbert Hatfield. 
“ No sane man ” 

“ Keep as calm as you can,” said Dr. Whitty, “ and 
tell us exactly what your grievance is.” 

“ My grievance ! I am followed about day and 
night ” 

“ Don’t exaggerate,” said Dr. Whitty. “ She goes 
home at night.” 

“ I’m followed about all day,” said Herbert Hat- 
field “ by a horrid little girl. There she is sitting on 
the window-sill wating for me.” 

Dr. Whitty glanced at Molly. 

“ She looks to me a nice little girl,” he saidi “ She’s 
quite pretty.” 

“ I don’t like her,” said Herbert Hatfield; “and, 
even if I did like her, I shouldn’t want to have her 
always- treading on my heels.” 


DR. WH’ITTY’S PATIENT 


ii 


“’I’ll tell her not to do that if you like.” 

“ Tell her to go away and leave me at peace.” 

“No. I won’t. You are here to be cured of a dan- 
gerous and highly objectionable kind of disease, and, 
in my opinion, Molly Geraghty is doing you a lot of 
good.” ! 

“ She’s making me worse. I’m going-mad. I shall 
become a raving lunatic if she follows me about any 
more.” 

“ Not at all. So long as you keep off the whisky, 
you’ll be as sane as any man living.” 

“ Whisky ! I never touch whisky.” 

“ Well, gin, or brandy, or rum, or absinthe, or what- 
ever it is you do drink. I expect it’s some queer, out- 
of-the-way foreign spirit.” 

“ I tell you, I don’t drink at all, and never did”’ 

“ Your father told me,” said Dr. Whitty, “ that you 
were a pretty nearly hopeless case of nervous break- 
down. If that doesn’t mean drink I don’t know what 
it does mean.” 

“ And do you mean to say that you’ve set that child 
on to follow me about in order to prevent my going 
into public-houses ? ” 

“ Exactly,” said Dr. Whitty, “ and, what’s more, 
the treatment is doing you a lot of good. You 
couldn’t have stood up to me and argued the way 
you’re doing when you came here a week ago. Look, 
at your hands now, man. Are they aspen leaves?” 

Herbert Hatfield stretched out one of his hands and 
stared at it. Then he laughed suddenly. 

“ By Jove ! ” he said, “ I believe you’re right. It is 
doing me good. I slept last night too: the whole 
night.” 

“ That’s Molly Geraghty,” said the doctor. 

“ All the same,” said Herbert Hatfield, “ I’m not a 
drunkard. I’m — it may seem rather absurd to you, 
but my nervous breakdown really was the consequence 


12 


DR. WHITTY’S PATIENT 


of great mental strain. I am engaged in writing — 
surely my father must have told you that I am a 
poet.” 

“ If you prefer to call it poetry,” said Dr. Whitty, 
“ I don’t mind. All I want to impress on you is that 
Molly Geraghty is the best means I know of getting 
you well again. So long as she is after you, you can’t 
give way ” 

“ He means,” said the Colonel, “ that she’ll keep 
your mind off poetry.” 

“ She certainly has done that,” said Herbert Hat- 
field. 

“ Then stick to her,” said the doctor, “ or, rather, 
let her stick to you. And if I were you, I should 
allow her to hold your hands as you walk about.” 

Herbert Hatfield stayed in Ballintra for six weeks. 
After he left, he sent Molly Geraghty a present of an 
immense doll’s house, fully furnished and crowded 
with inhabitants. Some months later Dr. Whitty 
made a confession to Colonel Beresford. 

“ Do you know,” he said, “ that fellow, Herbert 
Hatfield, really was a! teetotaler after all ? I asked his 
father the question straight, when I was acknowledg- 
ing his cheque.” 

“ And a poet? ” 

“ I didn’t inquire. But I dare say he was. After 
all, there must have been something to account for the 
horrid state he was in when he arrived. If it wasn’t 
drink, it’s as likely to have been poetry as anything 
else.” 


MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 


44t DON’T think you’ve ever met my daughter, 
X Mrs. Challoner,” said Colonel Beresford to 
Dr. Whitty one day near the end of October. 

“ No,” said the doctor, “ I haven’t. She hasn’t been 
over in Ballintra since I’ve been in the place.” 

“ She very seldom pays me a visit,” said the colonel. 
“ She’s a good deal tied to London. Her husband is a 
barrister, and when he gets a holiday he likes to go 
abroad. However, it seems she’s been working too 
hard lately, and has knocked herself up. She’s com- 
ing over here for rest and quiet.” 

“ She’ll get them both. I don’t know anywhere 
with more quiet about it than Ballintra in the 
autumn.” 

Dr. Whitty wondered what Mrs. Challoner worked 
at in London, but he was too well-mannered a man to 
ask a direct question. 

“ I dare say you’ve seen her name in the papers,” 
said the colonel. “ It has been pretty prominent in 
the discussions about Women’s Suffrage. She has 
taken the matter up, and, like all women, she’s tre- 
mendously keen.” 

Dr. Whitty had not seen her name. He seldom saw 
an English paper, and unless a woman makes herself 
very remarkable indeed, unless she gets imprisoned in 
circumstances of an entirely novel kind, the Irish 
papers take no notice of her. 

“ Of course I have,” said Dr. Whitty ; “ but I didn’t 
think of her being your daughter.” 

“ I wish she wouldn’t do it,” said the colonel. “ It’s 
too much for her. I quite agree with her view of the 
question, but I’d sooner she left the heavy end of the 
work to someone else.” 


13 


14 MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 

This surprised Dr. Whitty a good deal. He would 
not have suspected Colonel Beresford of being an ad- 
vocate of Women’s Suffrage. 

“ I don’t know what your opinions on the subject 
are/’ said the colonel. 

Dr. Whitty had no opinions. Woman’s Suffrage is 
not a burning question in Connacht ; he had never 
given it a moment’s serious thought. 1 

“ I entirely agree with you and Mrs. Challoner,” .he 
said. “ I don’t see how any man, not actually blinded 
by prejudice, can take the other view.” 

“ I’m glad 'to hear that, because I want to ask you up 
to dinner to meet my daughter when she arrives, but 
I couldn’t do it if you had been likelyto disagree with 
her. She’s not a woman who tolerates any difference 
of opinion. She likes arguing, and arguments on that 
subject bore me.” 

“ I don’t want to argue,” said the doctor. “ I shall 
agree ‘with every word she says, even if she goes fur- 
ther than I’m inclined to go myself.” 

“ It’s a pity she does it,” said the colonel. “ She’s 
right, of course, in principle, but I can’t help feeling 
a dislike for her making herself so prominent in pub- 
lic. Of course, not having any children, she naturally 
wants something to occupy her mind.” 

“ You can’t expect all women to have children,” said 
the doctor tolerantly. “ There’d be too many children 
in the world if they were all like Mrs. Michael Ger- 
aghty. She has thirteen.” 

Mrs. Challoner turned out to be a most charming 
lady. Her clothes in themselves excited the reverent 
admiration of Dr. Whitty. He had never in his life 
seen anything so fine as the black and green evening 
gown she wore at dinner. It glittered all over with 
little shiny discs which he discovered after were called 
sequins. Her figure was regal. She was at least 
four inches taller than the doctor, and looked quite as 


MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 15 

tall as the colonel, who of late years stooped a little. 
She moved with a sumptuous grace which made it a 
pleasure to watch her cross the room. She had large 
flashing eyes, and a smile which made the doctor’s 
heart beat rapidly. He fell a victim to her before he 
had been ten minutes in her company, and after he 
had taken her in to dinner he felt that Mr. Challoner, 
the barrister, was an exceedingly fortunate man. 

The conversation turned at once on the question of 
Woman’s Suffrage. 

“ I’m glad to hear, Dr. Whitty,” said Mrs. Chal- 
loner, “ that you take our view of the matter.” 

“ I do, thoroughly.” 

“ It seems such a pity that women should neglect 
to use the enormous influence for good they might 
have and ought to have.” 

“ It is a pity. When I look round the women of 
this town, for instance, and think what a difference 
it would make if only ” 

“ I like to think of woman,” said Mrs. Challoner, 
“ not as the rival of man, not as a competitor for the 
prizes of the market place, but as his comrade.” 

Dr. Whitty was a little puzzled. He had a vague 
idea that the advocates of Woman’s Suffrage did want 
to be rivals and competitors. 

“ Quite so,” he said. “Look at Mrs. Michael Ger- 
aghty, for instance ” 

“ I was thinking,” said Mrs. Challoner, who gener- 
ally interrupted anyone else who spoke, “ of trying 
to do a little work among the women here now that 
I am over with them. I suppose there would be no 
difficulty about getting up a public meeting.” 

“ My dear,” said the colonel, alarmed, “ do recollect 
that you have come over here for rest and quietness. 
It is absolutely necessary — I am sure Dr. Whitty will 
agree with me that you ought not to address a public 
meeting.” He looked appealingly at the doctor. 


1 6 MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 


Unfortunately Dr. Whitty, besides being exhilarated 
by the extraordinary beauty of Mrs. Challoner’ s eyes 
and smile, had drunk his first glass of champagne. 
He basely deserted the colonel. 

“ I don’t think one meeting would do Mrs. Chal- 
loner any harm,” he said. 

“ And besides,” said the colonel, “ you couldn’t pos- 
sibly get up a meeting of the sort in Ballintra. The 
people know nothing about the subject, and care less.” 

“ That seems to me,” said Mrs. Challoner with a 
radiant smile, “ all the more reason for having a meet- 
ing. Don’t you think so, Dr. Whitty ? ” 

“ Certainly. I should like to see a strong branch of 

your — your ” (he did not feel quite certain 

whether Mrs. Challoner presided over a leagtie, a 
guild, a union, an association or a simple society) 
“ your organization established in Ballintra. Take 
the case of Mrs. Michael Geraghty. That poor 
woman ” 

“ The priest won’t like a meeting for women,” said 
the colonel ; “ and you can’t run a thing of the sort 
here without the priest.” 

“ We’ll try,” said Mrs. Challoner, smiling again. 
“ I have faced worse obstacles than that.” 

“ The priest will be all right,” said Dr. Whitty. 
“ He’s a reasonable man. If he’s approached the 
right way and talked to sensibly he’ll come to the 
meeting and make a speech.” 

“ He ought to, of course,” said Mrs. Challoner. 
“ The Church has always taken a strong line on the 
subject. We count on the support of the clergy of 
every denomination wherever we go.” 

This surprised Dr. Whitty. He had always sup- 
posed that the ecclesiastical mind was prejudiced 
against the enfranchisement of anyone. 

“ Perhaps,” said Mrs. Challoner, “ you’ll see the 
priest, Dr. Whitty, and talk to him. My doctor has 


MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 17 

strictly forbidden me to undertake any work I can 
possibly avoid. Otherwise, of course, I should not 
dream of encroaching on your time.” 

“ I will,” said Dr. Whitty. “ I’ll see him to- 
morrow. I’ll work the whole thing up for you. 
You’ll want women and not men at the meeting? ” 

“ Certainly. Get all the women you can. It’s a 
woman’s question, and it ought to be settled by 
women. I shall have a copy of our monster petition 
sent over from our London office, and, after the 
meeting, we can obtain the signatures of those 
present.” 

“ Some 1 of them can’t write very well,” said the doc- 
tor, “ but we’ll make their marks for them. Mrs. 
Michael Geraghty will come. So will Mrs. Thady 
Glynn and her eldest daughter, who’s just home from 
school. You won’t object to Mrs. Glynn, will you 
colonel?” 

“ I won’t have him,” said the colonel. “ Remember 
that now, doctor. No tricks like that deputation one.” 

“ Certainly not. You’ll be quite safe. I won’t 
have a man in the room except Father Henaghan, Mr. 
Jackson — you’d like to have him, of course, when 
you’re having the priest — and myself. We don’t 
count. Clergy and doctors occupy a sort of inter- 
mediate position between the two sexes. We’re not 
really either one thing or the other.” 

Next day Dr. Whitty felt rather less confident about 
the success of his mission to the town of Ballintra. 
The daylight of an October morning is not a good 
t tonic for a fading enthusiasm. Tea — breakfast tea 
— does not exhilarate as champagne does. Mrs. Chal- 
loner’s eyes and smile were with him still, but only as 
a memory. Their radiance no longer made the world 
seem an easy thing to conquer. Nevertheless being a 
man of great hopefulness, he went out and called on 
the priest. 


i8 MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 


“ Good morning, Father Henaghan. You know 
Mrs. Challoner, of course.” 

“Is that the colonel’s daughter? I know the look 
of her, but I never spoke three words to her.” 

“ She wants to get up a meeting in the town,” said 
the doctor, “ in favour of Woman’s Suffrage. I sup- 
pose you won’t have any objection to taking the 
chair?” 

“A meeting in favour of what?” 

“ Woman’s Suffrage, giving women votes, you 
know. It’s a capital thing; the Church all over the 
world has pronounced in favour of it.” 

“ I’ll take the chair at no such meeting.” 

“ I’m sorry to hear you say that,” said the doctor. 
“ By taking up that sort of reactionary attitude you 
will be throwing yourself into opposition to the great 
majority of the clergy. Mrs. Challoner told me last 
night that everywhere she went she had the support 
of the clergy.” 

“ It’s different in England. England’s a Protestant 
country.” 

“ She wasn’t talking of England. She was talking 
of Ireland. Why, your own bishop is as strongly in 
favour of it as any man.” 

“ What makes you say that ? I never heard it of 
him.” 

“ Mrs. Challoner told me so,” said the doctor, lying 
boldly, “ and she’d be sure to know.” 

“ She’s mistaken,” said the priest. “ The bishop has 
more sense.” 

“ I don’t see what harm it can do you to preside,” 
said the doctor. “ You may just as well do the civil 
thing when' you’re asked. We won’t let it get into the 
papers.” 

“ I’m against it,” said the priest. “That’s why I 
won’t do it. In my opinion women are a deal better 
without votes.” 


MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 19 

“ Of course they are. I quite agree with you.” 

“ Then why should I be getting votes for them ? ” 

“ You won’t, if you presided at fifty meetings. If 
you presided at one, once a week for five years, you 
wouldn’t get a vote for a solitary woman at the end 
of it. Come now, Father Henaghan, it’s a mere ques- 
tion of obliging a lady.” 

“ What use would votes be to women if they had 
them ? ” 

“ None,” said the doctor, “ none whatever. They’d 
never use them. Votes aren’t any use to men ; so it’s 
not likely they would be to women if they got them, 
which, of course, they won’t.” 

“ Then what’s the good of the meeting? ” 

“ The same good as all the other meetings. In fact, 
this one will be a great deal more good than most. 
For if you preside at it, like a sensible man, the colo- 
nel will be so pleased that he’ll give you that field be- 
yond my house for your new school. You want that 
field badly, you know you do.” 

“ I have a great respect for the colonel,” said the 
priest. 

“ Then you’ll preside at the meeting. I knew you 
would.” 

“If I do,” said the priest, “I’ll not make a 
speech.” 

“ You needn’t. All that’s necessary is for you to in- 
troduce Mrs. Challoner in a few well-chosen words, 
something about a charming and distinguished lady 
whose career has been watched with interest by the 
people of her native town.” 

“ I know what to say,” said the priest, “ without 
your teaching me.” 

“ You do, of course. Good-bye. Oh, by the way, 
Tuesday next is the day. Eight o’clock in the school- 
room.” 

Dr. Whitty had much less difficulty at the rectory. 


20 MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 

He saw Mrs. Jackson first. She was a lady with lean- 
ings towards culture, and an unsatisfied desire for 
what she thought of as a “ fuller life.” She was 
greatly interested in hearing that Mrs. Challoner was 
an ardent advocate of Woman’s Suffrage. It ap- 
peared to her from the short sketch the doctor gave 
her of the objects of the movement that it was just 
the thing she had always been looking out for, some- 
thing that would lift her soul out of the dreary 
monotony of house cleaning and baby culture. She 
promised to use her influence to persuade her hus- 
band to attend the meeting. She went to the door 
of the room and called him in a loud voice until he 
came. 

Mr. Jackson held no strong views on any political 
subject except temperance. About that he was violent 
and extreme. He wanted a Bill passed forbidding the 
sale of alcohol in any form, except in chemists’ shops 
on presentation of a written order from a medical 
man. Dr. Whitty knew this and shaped his argu- 
ments to suit the circumstances. 

“ In Finland,” he said, “ the effect of the women’s 
vote — you know, of course, that women have votes 
in Finland — has been to close every public-house in 
the entire country, and to make the manufacture of 
whisky a criminal offence.” 

Mr. Jackson, though his favourite study was tem- 
perance legislation, had never heard of the drastic 
action of the Finnish Parliament. He expressed sur- 
prise. 

“ I’m not telling you that on my own authority,” 
said the doctor ; “ in fact, I never heard it until Mrs. 
Challoner mentioned it to me last night at dinner. 
But she ought to know. She’s gone into all these 
questions thoroughly. Her husband, as you know, is 
an international lawyer, makes speeches at The Hague 
Conference, sits on Boards of Arbitration, and that 
kind of thing.” 


MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 21 


“ I suppose she’s right,” said Mr. Jackson, “ but I 
never heard of it.” 

“ That being so,” said Dr. Whitty, “ you will of 
course support this Suffrage movement. What we 
want you to do is to open the meeting by proposing 
that Father Henaghan takes the chair. Quite a short 
speech will do. You needn’t say much about the ques- 
tion itself. Mrs. Challoner will have all the argu- 
ments ready cut and dried when her turn comes. All 
you have to do is to be sympathetic in a general way. 
You could mention, if you like, that the hand which 
rocks the cradle ought to rule the world ; or any other 
little thing of that kind that occurred to you. You’ll 
know, better than I can, what the proper thing is.” 

Mrs. Jackson added her voice to Dr. Whitty’s, and 
the rector allowed himself to be persuaded. When 
the doctor had left the house, he wrote to the secre- 
tary of the Total Abstinence Society to which he be- 
longed for all the pamphlets in existence which dealt 
with the temperance question in Finland. 

Dr. Whitty walked up towards Ballintra House, in- 
tending to report his success to Mrs. Challoner. On 
the way he met Michael Geraghty, who, pursuing his 
profession of builder and contractor, was erecting a 
new cow byre for a farmer near the village. 

“ Look here, Michael,” said the doctor, “ I want 
your wife to attend a meeting in the schoolroom at 
eight o’clock on Tuesday next.” 

“ Herself might go,” said Michael. “ But she has 
her hands full with the baby. I’m not sure that she’ll 
be able.” 

“ The baby’s a girl, isn’t it ? ” said the doctor. 

“ It is. It’s the tenth girl.” 

“ Then tell her to bring it. I couldn’t have asked it 
if it had been a boy. Be sure now, Michael, you don’t 
forget to tell her. I can’t be running round the town 
inviting everybody twice.” 


22 MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 


“ Doctor,” called Michael Geraghty, as Whitty left 
him. “ Did you say it was the preventing of con- 
sumption the meeting was for?” 

“ No, it’s not.” 

“ Then it’ll be dairying, or cookery, maybe ? ” 

“ No. It’s not. It’s Woman’s Suffrage.” 

“ It’ll be all the same to herself,” said Michael Ger- 
aghty. “ Only it would be as well for her to be told, 
so as she’d know what to be expecting. I’ll give her 
the message.” 

The day of the meeting arrived. So soon as the 
children had gone home, Dr. Whitty took possession 
of the schoolroom. He swept it out with a brush he 
borrowed from the schoolmaster’s wife, working vig- 
orously but not very effectively. He disturbed a great 
deal of dirt, but got very little of it out of the door. 
He arranged the forms and desks in rows, so that the 
audience would be obliged to face the speakers. He 
put the schoolmaster’s kitchen table at the top of the 
room and covered it with a green cloth which came 
from his own dining-room. He placed two vases full 
of roses, supplied by Colonel Beresford’s gardener, on 
the table, got a pen, a bottle of ink, and a sheet of 
blotting-paper. Then he went home and had some- 
thing to eat. At half-past seven he got back to the 
schoolroom. At twenty-five minutes to eight Mrs. 
Michael Geraghty came in. Dr. Whitty, who was 
anxious about the size of the audience, welcomed her 
heartily. 

“ I ran round,” she said, “ to tell you that I couldn’t 
attend the meeting. The baby’s that cross I couldn’t 
bring her, for fear she’d be disturbing the people with 
her crying, and I daren’t leave her.” 

“ You’ll stay here, now you are here,” said the 
doctor. 

“ Where’s the use ? ” she said. “ I heard all they 
had to say about domestic economy, or whatever it is 


MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 23 

they call it, the last meeting there was in it. What’s 
more, I didn’t think much of it.” 

“ This isn’t domestic economy. It’s Woman’s Suf- 
frage. And you’ve got to stay.” 

“ I’d do a deal for you, doctor, but the baby ” 

“ Sit down now and don’t talk. Here’s somebody 
else.” 

It was Thady Glynn’s daughter, very sumptuously 
arrayed in a blue dress. Her hat was magnificent. 
She apologised for her mother’s absence. Four more 
women dribbled in after her, and gathered in a close 
group round Mrs. Michael Geraghty. Miss Glynn 
sat on the front bench by herself. There was a noise 
of wheels. Dr. Whitty rushed to the door, fearing 
that Mrs. Challoner might have arrived before her 
time. He was met by six women, four of them fe- 
male servants from Ballintra House; the fifth Mrs. 
Challoner’s own maid, whose opinions on the subject 
of the suffrage were probably formed; the sixth, the 
coachman’s wife. They took their places in a prim 
row on 1 the back bench, and sat very much as they did 
in the great hall of Ballintra House while the colonel 
read prayers in the morning. At ten minutes to 
eight Mr. and Mrs. Jackson arrived. Dr. Whitty 
placed Mr. Jackson on one of the chairs behind the 
table, and arranged Mrs. Jackson at a decent distance 
from Miss Glynn on the front bench. Father Hena- 
ghan came next. He looked round the audience and 
grinned. 

“ You haven’t got very many people,” he said. 

“ I have not,” said the doctor. “ It got out some 
way that you didn’t approve of the meeting, and so 
they wouldn’t come. I shouldn’t be surprised if the 
colonel refused to give you that field after all.” 

The priest had something to say in reply, but the 
arrival of Mrs. Challoner prevented his saying it. 
She, too, glanced at the empty benches, but she had 


24 MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 

the grace to conceal her disappointment. Dr. Whitty 
placed her in a chair beside Mr. Jackson. The school- 
master’s wife arrived immediately after Mrs. Chal- 
loner, and sat by herself in front of the Ballintra 
House servants. Dr. Whitty crossed the room and 
whispered to Mr. Jackson. The rector rose nerv- 
ously. 

“ Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “ I have much 
pleasure in proposing that Father Henaghan take the 
chair. I shall not detain you with any remarks of 
my own on a subject about which I hope to know 
more when I leave this room than I do at present. 
But I think I ought to say that, in so far as Woman’s 
Suffrage promotes the cause of temperance through- 
out the world, it has my sincerest sympathy.” 

Dr. Whitty applauded this sentiment vigorously. It 
struck him that Mrs. Challoner did not look very 
pleased, and he wished that Mr. Jackson would ex- 
press himself more warmly. It seemed a pity to rest 
his support of the Suffrage movement entirely on 
temperance. He sincerely hoped that no mention 
would be made of the remarkable achievement of the 
women of Finland. Mr. Jackson did not say much 
more, but he succeeded, to Dr. Whitty’s gratification, 
in working in the proverb about rocking the cradle and 
ruling the world. 

Father Henaghan took the chair amid loud applause 
from Dr. Whitty, backed by the tapping of the school- 
mistress’ umbrella on the floor. The priest began his 
speech by saying that he was glad to have the oppor- 
tunity of welcoming to their midst a lady whose bril- 
liant and striking career had long been watched with 
deep interest and unfailing admiration by the people 
of Ballintra. The sentence was so well rounded and 
delivered with such fervour that it was applauded by 
several members of the audience as well as by Dr. 
Whitty and the schoolmaster’s wife, Mrs. Challoner’s 


MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 25 

face cleared. She evidently liked the priest’s speech, 
so far, better than she had liked the rector’s. 

“ I’m sorry,” Father Henaghan went on, “ that we 
haven’t a better room in which to welcome the lady 
who has come to address us. This school isn’t what 
it ought to be, but there’s talk of building a new one, 
more suited to the needs of the parish, and more ap- 
propriate to the accommodation of meetings of this 
sort, i think I may say that if we had a suitable site 
we wouldn’t be long in getting together the money for 
the building.” 

He glanced round at Mrs. Challoner to see how she 
was taking the hint. She smiled and nodded in the 
most encouraging manner. Father Henaghan felt he 
might complete the impression he had evidently made 
on her by a few judicious words on the subject of 
Female Suffrage. 

“ With regard to the cause which we have as- 
sembled here to support,” he said, “ it wouldn’t suit 
me to be saying too much. I’m a man myself, and in 
my opinion it’s women who ought to look into the 
matter. I haven’t what you call a strong opinion 
either one way or the other.” 

The schoolmaster’s wife applauded feebly with her 
umbrella. Mrs. Michael Geraghty, noticing that the 
doctor was looking the other way, slipped as quietly 
as possible from the room. She was really anxious 
about her baby. Mrs. Challoner appeared puzzled 
and slightly annoyed. Dr. Whitty winked ferociously 
at Father Henaghan. He was watching Mrs. Chal- 
loner’s face, and he didn’t like the look of it. The 
priest glanced round quickly and saw the incipient 
frown which had aroused Dr. Whitty’s alarm. He 
felt he must improve on his non-committal attitude. 

“ I haven’t,” he said, “ what you’d call a strong 
opinion, but I may tell you this ; if I had an opinion, it 
would be entirely in favour of Woman’s Suffrage; 


26 MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 


and what’s more, if any one among you wants a good 
argument in favour of women being given the right 
to vote, let him look at Mrs. Challoner. I defy any 
man to doubt that if she had a vote she’d use it well.” 

After this effort he felt he could do no more. He 
called upon Mrs. Challoner to address the meeting 
and sat down. 

Mrs. Challoner stood up, and there was no doubt 
she was in an uncommonly bad temper. Dr. Whitty 
was anxious and puzzled. The servants from 
Ballintra House fidgeted nervously. 

“ I came here to-night,” she began, “ under the im- 
pression that I was to address a meeting of opponents 
to the monstrous and ridiculous demand for Votes for 
Women. I find I was mistaken. The two clergymen 
who addressed you appear to be in favour of what I 
regard as the degradation of my sex.” 

Mr. Jackson, who had not paid much attention to 
Father Henaghan’s speech, woke up with a start and 
looked surprised. Father Henaghan glared savagely 
at Dr. Whitty. 

“ In the circumstances,” said Mrs. Challoner, “ I am 
thankful to observe that this is an extremely small 
meeting, and apparently quite wanting in enthusiasm. 
I am glad of it. The other women — those who are 
not present — have shown good taste and sound sense 
in staying away. I do not know tha,t I ought to ad- 
dress you at all to-night, but I shall say a few words 
in the hope that I may convince some of the least ob- 
stinate among you of the folly of the course you are 
bent on pursuing.” 

Her eyes were fixed as she spoke on Colonel Beres- 
ford’s under housemaid. The poor girl trembled vis- 
ibly. Mrs. Challoner then denounced all supporters 
of Women’s Suffrage, especially those whom she 
called the “ Male Suffragettes.” Her speech lasted 
for more than half an hour. She repeated with con- 


MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 27 

temptuous emphasis a large number of witticisms 
which had appeared in comic papers. She quoted, 
though without reference to the original documents, a 
good many articles from London daily papers. She 
explained that she was a leading member of an organ- 
isation of right-minded women pledged to resist to the 
uttermost the demands of infatuated members of their 
sex. She produced at last a copy of a petition to 
Parliament. It asked, so she informed her audience, 
that the suffrage should never, under any pressure, be 
granted to women. 

“ I do not suppose,” she said, “ that more than one 
or two of those present will sign it.” She glanced, as 
she spoke, at her own maid, who had signed twice 
before, “ but I mean to take it round the town to- 
morrow myself and obtain the signatures of those who 
have had the good sense not to attend this meeting.” 

She sat down. Father Henaghan, a little redder in 
the face than usual, but with a twinkle in his eye, 
called upon Dr. Whitty to propose a vote of thanks 
to Mrs. Challoner. The doctor rose without exhibit- 
ing any very obvious embarrassment. 

“ Reverend chairman, ladies, and gentlemen,” he 
said. “ I came here to-night a convinced and deter- 
mined supporter of Woman’s Suffrage. So did the 
Reverend Mr. Jackson, so did Father Henaghan ” 

“ I did not,” exclaimed the priest. 

Mr. Jackson, who seemed a good deal bewildered, 
shook his head. 

“ You did,” said the doctor, “ both of you. And 
there’s no use your denying it, because you committed 
yourselves in the speeches you made. But it’s open to 
you, as it is to me, to change your views; and I may 
say that, after listening to the extraordinarily power- 
ful and convincing speech just made by Mrs. Chal- 
loner, I have changed my mind. The ladies who have 
attended the meeting have also, I feel certain, changed 


28 MRS. CHALLONER’S PUBLIC MEETING 


theirs. That is the best compliment we can pay Mrs. 
Challoner to-night, and by way of showing that it’s 
not a mere empty form of words, I propose that every 
one here signs the petition which has been laid on the 
table before the chairman.” 

He sat down. Father Henaghan rose at once. 
i( Ladies,” he said, “ let each one of you step for- 
ward and sign the petition, and let nobody leave the 
room till that’s done.” 

“ I don’t want people to sign against their will,” said 
Mrs. Challoner. “ If there’s any woman here who 

sincerely believes ” 

“ There isn’t,” said Father Henaghan. 

“ There is not,” said the doctor with emphasis. “ I 
know them all well, and there isn’t one that sincerely 
believes votes would be the slightest use to her, if she 
had them given out free by the stone, the same as the 
Congested Districts Board would give potatoes.” 

The petition was signed. Mrs. Challoner, who went 
back to London early in November, parted with Dr. 
Whitty on terms of the warmest friendship. She 
afterwards spoke of him as a singularly open-minded 
man, one of the very few who are ready to surrender 
an opinion when it is clearly shown to be wrong. 


THE END 



NOV 20 1912 


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